


The Adventure of the Hiccupping Detective

by redbuttonhole



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Friendship, Hiccups, Humor, M/M, Possibly Pre-Slash, Very interesting, interesting ways to cure hiccups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 19:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3621915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbuttonhole/pseuds/redbuttonhole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by <a href="http://martainducreff.tumblr.com/post/114417169955/please-everyone-please-imagine-the-sound-sherlocks">this tumblr post</a>:</p><p>please everyone please imagine the sound sherlock makes when he hiccups</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventure of the Hiccupping Detective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [martainducreff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/martainducreff/gifts).
  * Translation into Čeština available: [Případ škytajícího detektiva](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3845302) by [squire (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/squire)



> Translation into Russian available: 
> 
> [Приключения икающего детектива](http://ficbook.net/readfic/3056523) by [LiL_Hamster](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LiL_Hamster)

They had just about finished a lunch of spicy Thai takeaway leftovers when John first heard it.  It was a strange sound, somewhere between a squeak and a peep, and John looked up from his paper to find Sherlock’s eyes.

"What was that?"

"What?  Nothing."

But John had no sooner looked down than he heard the sound again.

"Do we have a mouse or something?" he said, craning around to cast a suspicious glance at the kitchen.

"Certainly not.  Ignore it."

But there it was again.  And it wasn’t coming from the kitchen.  In fact, it seemed to be coming from…

"Sherlock?  Is that you?"

The man emitted a low growl of frustration.  ”Hiccups,” he said through gritted teeth.  ”I used to get them sometimes from spicy food, but I haven’t since I was a child.  Only there was a whole chili pepper in that papaya salad…”

"Why did you eat it?"

Sherlock stood up from the table and flopped down on the sofa in frustration, his blue dressing gown billowing around him.

"Wasn’t paying atten—" he began, but the low baritone rumble was interrupted by yet another high pitched squeak.  "Sodding peppers," said the detective.  "I hate this."  
  
***

Twenty minutes later, Sherlock was still emitting high pitched noises at the rate of about one a minute.  John had to admit to himself that it was sort of cute – the contrast of that normally rich, low voice with such a delicate little peep.  It was also amusing and not a little intriguing to watch the way the sudden eruptions rippled through that long, lean body – to see the great detective, normally a model of physical and mental self-control, undone by this very human phenomenon.

But as Sherlock moaned his frustration and discomfort, John realized the situation was becoming dire.  

"How did you used to get rid of them, then?" he tried.  "When you were a kid."

Sherlock rubbed his hands over his eyes.  ”I don’t – _squeak_ – I don’t know.  Must have deleted it.”

"Maybe try Mycroft?  He might remember."

Mycroft’s text back a few minutes later suggested ingesting a tea spoon of sugar.  Sherlock rolled his eyes a little, but underneath seemed relieved to have been prescribed such a simple and pleasant remedy.  John got out the sugar bowl and a spoon, and Sherlock pulled a face as he swallowed it down…  but a few seconds later, there it was again.   _Squeak_.

“Dammit,” said the detective.

"You know," said John, "I once read in a medical journal about a man who had the hiccups for forty years."

Sherlock’s eyes grew big with alarm.  He opened his mouth as if to demand further information, but…

 _Squeak_.  

***

Over the course of the afternoon, Sherlock tried the suggestions of almost everyone they knew.  Mrs Hudson suggested drinking a glass of water upside down, which was at least fairly entertaining to watch, even if Sherlock remained unamused.  Lestrade insisted that breathing into a brown bag was fool proof, but it only resulted in Sherlock accidentally inhaling a receipt and choking for a bit.  Molly recommended inhaling deeply while sticking out your tongue and holding your fingers in your ears, and they’d wound up in quite a row when John couldn’t stop giggling at him.  

Duly chastened, John struggled to make it through the rest of the evening without laughing or even smiling at his flatmate.  But as the hour grew late and Sherlock’s body refused to release him from its torment, John’s merriment turned to pity.  

“What’ll I do, John?” moaned the detective.  ”I can’t sleep like this, I certainly can’t think— _squeak_ —and I have a client meeting in the morning.”

"Well," said John carefully, his eyes focused on the novel he was reading.  "I could suck you off."

Sherlock sat up.

"What?"

"I said that I could…  suck you off."  

John glanced up.  Sherlock was staring fixedly at him.

“You mean…”

“Yes.”

"You’re serious."

"I’ve heard it helps.  Back in my army days, rumor went around the barracks…"

"Have you ever done it before?"

"I—ah, no."

"You are heterosexual, aren’t you?"

"I am, yes."

"But you would do this.  For me."

"Is it…  is it something you want?"

Sherlock opened his mouth, then closed it again.  He stood up and paced the room, stepping thoughtlessly across the coffee table.

"I don’t know," he said, looking agitated.  "What if it ruined our friendship?"

"Do you think it would?"

Sherlock stopped pacing and looked at him intently.  John tried not to squirm.

"No," said Sherlock.  "Why should it?  We can be adults about this.  Or at least…  I can.  I’m quite sure of that.  You, on the other hand…"

"I’m not an adult?"

Sherlock waved one hand airily and resumed pacing.  ”Sentiment,” he said.  ”From what I’ve deduced of your sexual history, I’m not convinced you can separate the physical act from the emotional aspect.”

"And you’ve got no problem with that?"

"Me?" scoffed Sherlock.  "Of course not."  John watched as Sherlock stepped into and over his arm chair.  "I wouldn’t be bothered in the least.  That is, unless…"  He came to a halt again and looked at John almost shyly.  "Unless you wanted me to?"

"To be bothered?"

"Yes.  No, what I mean is –"

"Sherlock."

"Yes?"

"You haven’t hiccupped in ages."

"What?"  Sherlock stared at him.  "I…  "  He sat down heavily in his arm chair. "Oh," he said.

John allowed himself a grin as he turned back to his novel.

"Works every time."

***

“ _Hic._ ”

"Sherlock."

"Yes?"

"I can tell you’re faking."


End file.
